It Was Never the Same
by greysxaddict
Summary: This was Bella's normal, it was everything she knew. This was Edward's nightmare, it was everything he detested. Will it ever be the same?
1. Preview

**A/N: All characters are Steph's, personalities are mine! This is my first story for Twilight, and ever, so I take constructive** **criticism well!**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

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 **1: Preview**

It didn't take me long to figure out what was wrong.

I mean, initially, I knew something was wrong: the monitors were beeping drastically, my attending was yelling numbers at me that seemed to be in a foreign language, and my human was foaming like some rabid raccoon. The wife's prayers were going on and on I basically memorized them in all of the two minutes the chaos had started, and let's not forget the human who was seizing all over the place.

The lights were flickering—God knows we needed new lights—the nurses were doing all they could to help the situation, but, in the eyes of the attending, especially mine, it was a lost cause. Even if they singlehandedly saved this man's life, somehow they would be doing it wrong, and of course, get sent on a timeout.

Flipping through charts, pushing medicine through too-small tubes, and telling the wife he was going to be okay, wasn't exactly my forte. I knew the man was dying, and we had to move fast. Just with so many bodies in the room, I doubted that was possible since my attending is always putting her self where she doesn't belong, and thus making everything worse—but that's okay, that's what nurses are for.

The flickering light was really starting to bother me, to a point where I considered running to the switch and shutting it off myself just to get rid of the horrible migraine that was forming, but you can obviously see why that is a bad idea. Instead, I'll push through the headache, take as many Asprin as I can without overdosing and get on with my day.

It's not easy seeing these things happen everyday. You'd think one would be depressed and miserable taking care of patients, but we're actually just depressed for the workspace. As you know, our lights are horrible. However, we also run out of supplies daily, our needles almost all the time aren't as sterile as they should be, it smells like death, it's desert hot, and we don't have the proper clothing. The place has dirt all over the place, the monitors are so weak they're all hooked up to baby monitors, which are placed right near the actual monitor's speaker. We all carry our respective baby monitors for the day depending on what beds we are assigned. The air is hot and muggy making infection more prone than usual, however we don't have the sterile items either, so that could also be the problem.

We lose about one-third of our humans weekly due to infection, not having proper tools, or being sterile enough. The humans we lose range from newborns to elders, so no age is safe. Pregnant mothers usually die on the table due to being so openly exposed. A cough will quickly turn into the flu, which will turn into pneumonia, which soon leads to death. We don't have a mourge, so those humans who do die are put into a dumpster which is emptied weekly—which explains the death smell.

We're a small place composed of three attending's, four fellows, five residents, eight interns and three nurses. You may notice the numbers begin to dwindle as we progress further into our years of training and experience. It's because every year, humans catch the infections and diseases that we can't treat and eventually die.

You may be asking why I work here. And believe me, I ask myself the same question everyday. It's dirty, and disgusting, and horrible, and a death house—but it's not.

It's my home. A home that I was apparently dropped off at when I was three days old, before the Takeover; my parents essentially wanted better for me, and this used to be a better place before the Takeover. This is where all babies were dropped off in the utopian society. But off course I don't remember it, due to only being three days old. Soon, the town became a dirt place, next the city, then the state, country, continent, and world.

I've been here my whole life, and as crazy as it sounds, I've never contracted any disease. Maybe it's due to exposer my whole life, or maybe I'm lucky. Knock on wood. The others have been here since the Takeover. They took over when the others ran, leaving humans to easily become Victims. Not caring. Not noticing the horrific torture it would ensue upon the world. We banned together, to keep the world afloat with healthy humans. However we can't do that without proper tools and equipment and training.

Back to the human, however, the baby monitors were going crazy, and the foam hadn't stopped. Compressions weren't working and the man had fallen to the floor off the mattress.

Suddenly, he stopped moving. All movement and sound and breathing had stopped. There was another crash from another mattress across the area, and we knew we had failed again.

"Time of death: eighteen-twenty four," I said, as I ran to the next dying victim.

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	2. Losses

**A/N: Characters are Steph's personalities are mine!**

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 **2: Losses**

"Push one of epi," she said. The sweat was beading on her face. Prickling out from underneath her hairline, trailing down underneath her gray under armor. The sweat travelled down her face, to her arms, her chest, her back. She was covered in the salty moisture, as we all were, but somehow more. She was nervous—we could see that. We all could. We all cast glances to each other before giving ourselves a millisecond glance at her small, angular, red face. Her blue eyes shining with defeat. Her nappy dirty blonde streaks tied angrily into a ponytail, was shuddering forward with every one of her motions.

It was useless.

"Push more," she breathed, "push more, goddammit…."

"We can't," began the intern next to her, shuddering in her place, afraid to complete her sentence, "we ran out at ten this morning."

She looked up, stared straight at the dirty wall next to the mattress. She climbed off the dead human, and sat on her knees, body angled to the wall. She stared away from the seven of us for what seemed like hours. She took a deep breath and whispered in an angered calm, "What?"

The intern, stupidly, answered, "You said to push epi twice on the last—"

A crash. A slam. The intern was on the opposite side of the area. "I know, you damned idiot; I know what I said." She had risen off her knees, and was now crouching at the stupid intern, who was now bleeding profusely down her arm. She stalked toward the intern, "I know. And I knew yesterday when we ran out, too. And the day before that, as well as the day before that." She turned to face the rest of us. "Take them to the dumpster," she said, nodding to the two mattresses of dead humans. She looked back at the intern, who was now bleeding seriously. "And fix her up, too. No doubt she's been exposed. She'll be dead in the next three days." She lowered herself to a whisper and said to a resident, "Put her in open land, not the dumpster."

She left.

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The losses always hit us hard. Another one dead. Another one lost. Another point for them. You may ask why we do this, but it's not for us, or for the humans. It's for them. To prove a point that was never proven before. To prove to them that we matter, we are apart of society. A society that I know nothing about, and maybe never will, but a society nonetheless. A society of humans.

Human.

The word always messes with me. What is human? It is considered someone with a beating heart? No, it can't be because those with beating hearts commit crimes everyday. Is it someone with a conscience? Not quite, consciences can be easily swayed and messed with, making them believe in something that should never be believed in in the first place. Is it just someone who breathes? Or speaks? I don't believe so. No one is perfect, no one human is perfect, and no human will ever be perfect.

We commit crimes, catch diseases, are never happy with ourselves or others, lie, cheat, and a million other things that can't be thought of. The list is endless. The list of possibilities is endless. The list of corruptions is endless. Everything is endless. It's bountiful, plentiful, and we'll never get enough of it. Of crimes, of cheating, of lying, or not being happy with ourselves.

It's never enough.

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"Why did I have to get the three hundred pound guy?" she wheezed out at me. She had stopped—again—dropping the human, and clutching her knees. "I mean seriously. I'm the tiniest human here and I get the World's Largest Sumo Wrestler. What is this?" she began laughing—or trying to laugh, I should say. She grabbed Sumo Wrestler, and pulled him along in the darkness with me. She continued, seriously, "We lost two today."

I nodded.

"It's only noon."

I nodded again.

"Do you think this is going to work?" she said, dropping Sumo on the ground. The dirt puffed up around him, creating dust bunnies in the air, swirling around us. Mocking us. "Honestly," she finished.

I stared at the dust motes in the air, swirling in the air, and getting all over my clothes and shoes. I dropped my human, and created even more dust bunnies. I opened my mouth to speak, and felt the dirt on my tongue and in between my teeth. I closed my mouth, and felt the familiar crunch of the dirt in my mouth, like when sand gets in your mouth. I opened and croaked, "I don't know," I sighed and looked at the dark abyss beyond us. "I don't know," I repeated louder. My head looked back at her. My headlight caught the redness in her hair, and the dirt and grime and sweat on her face, making an awkward glow appear around her. Her blue scrub pants and dark grey long sleeve shifted with her and she swayed back and fourth.

"I don't know how much longer I can take this," she whispered, "the humans…dropping like flies day by day. Are we even helping? Are we proving anything? Or are we just helping them? There's only so many humans left. And when they deplete, what do we do next? Test on our selves?" she began to walk back and fourth, pacing through the dirt. I focused on the dust bunnies she was making in the air. "She about lost her head today…I don't know how much she can take."

I nodded, my headlight catching the dust motes in the air, making shadows of dust dance across the brick. "Yeah, I know."

"Are we helping? Or are we just murderers?" she continued. We still hadn't moved, standing in the middle of the aisle headed to the dumpster to dump them. The dust had remotely calmed now, creating a thin layer of dirt and grime to stick to us and our sweat.

I took a deep breath, picked up my human, begun walking and whispered, "I don't know,"

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	3. Circles

**A/N: All characters are Steph's, personalities are mine ;)**

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 **3: Circles**

We all joined at the same times in our lives. I was about nine was I was thrown into this life of medicine without any kind of medical training. They said to do what I was told, and if I did it right, I would be able to tell others what to do someday. That's when I began my internship. Internships run over the course of four years, and it where you learn all the basic medical training. IV's, bandaging, identifying diseases, injury awareness, and anatomy. It's the only thing you know for four years. It's what you eat, breathe, and sleep. Medical term after medical injury after spontaneous test, day or night, and if you're good, and show your good on multiple occasions, the internship only lasts three years, maybe three-and-a-half. Interns are lucky if they see the room where all the chaos happens. Sure, they peek around the corner, and through the window we have, but they are quickly shooed away. If you're lucky, you might get to stand and watch the resident give the speech about what is wrong with the human. But, when a human is dying, it's all hands on deck.

After the four grueling years, you move to your residency. Your residency lasts for five years—sometimes four if you're just _that_ good—and it's where you begin to take on your own humans. You figure out their injuries or diseases without any help from the attending's or fellows, memorize it, fill it out on one of the few charts if you're lucky, and grab the correct attending to assess your work. If you're correct, great. There's no hug or prize, because it you're job. It's on you to figure out what the hell is wrong with these humans. The attending's take it from there, and you go double check your chart before officially giving it to the attending, and you better be damned sure it's correctly written. The resident never sees the inside of the Carrier's. Their job is to make sure the attending's are set to role. There really isn't much to it.

After that comes fellows. Fellows are basically baby attending's; they can do anything and everything an attending can do, except hands on activity. Minor things like CPR, IV's, and splinting, are the same thing as breaking bones and skulls in this place. No one is allowed to touch the human, for safety precautions. They are allowed to observe the hands on activity, and are asked questions of how and why things are done the way they are—kind of like a Spont Test for an intern, except it actually matters now. When a fellow is asked a question of how to proceed, it is rule for the attending to do exactly as the fellow says, no questions asked, even if what the fellow said was wrong. It's how they learn right from wrong and how the body functions. This is the most stressful part of this job. The two, horrific years are filled with joy, loss, anger, guilt, and so much more. You're guilty for human's deaths. You're the one who saved the humans life. You blanked. You stuttered. Are you ready?

Finally, after an insane life filled with tests and reviewing and stress, you reach an attending. Attending's are set for life. Unlike a fellow and resident, you can never drop back down to the level below you. You are the one who touches the human, decides the prognosis, and does what is needed. You're the one we try to impress. You're the boss. You don't even see the interns until the reach residency. You are quick, both with humans and to the point, because now this all rests on you.

Congratulations.

All the levels stay together in their own circles. The interns, the bottom of the food chain, don't dare talk to anyone above them. The residents are too proud to talk to anyone besides an attending, or even the fellows, and when they do, in that small window of time they believe they can change the world when they're right. They believe they're the top dogs because they're still alive even with all the infection running around and they survived the internships. The fellows are too worried about killing someone to talk to anyone but themselves, and the attending's are simply too busy to talk to anyone besides each other. We keep to each other because that's all we know, it the only communication we have. The only friendships we have.

If they don't die first, of course.

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"I'm supposed to watch Cullen's Assessment today," Alice breathed. She was sitting in the aisle with her head against the wall with her eyes closed, he knees up, and her hands on her knees. "We all know how well that went last time," I could tell she was rolling her eyes underneath her eyelids. She chuckled lightly.

"Shut up it wasn't that bad," Emmett said, rolling his eyes visibly, while simultaneously turning his head to face Alice. "Try my last time with . Now, that's what you call a disaster."

Alice shook her head rapidly, and her eyes flashed open. Her head raised to Emmett she glowered, "Emmett, my human died. I blanked. At least you we're able to revive yours." She sighed, closed her eyes and rested her head back against the brick, "It's not even close to the same thing."

"Yes it is. A death by Cullen is better than almost losing one to Dwyer. That bitch is scary. And besides, that one was annoying. It's fine." he said. She glowered at him again and he quickly went silent.

It was true, though. Ask any fellow, or even a resident. A death by any other attending is smooth sailing compared to Dwyer. She's a freak show. She was a bomb, ready to explode any minute—as you know from the intern that died because of her. She was the actual top dog in this place, overseeing everyone, including her two peers of attending's. She was ruthless and raw—perfect for this place.

But she was also like a weird mom to us all. She made sure we—somehow—were not malnourished and she made sure we knew whom we were. She never gave us all more than we could handle, because she wasn't trying to break us. She was trying to keep us together as a unit and together as our own. She started this place when she was thirteen, and she took in everyone and anyone that would be willing. She may have strict rules, but that's because she was just doing her job, a job that no one else could handle.

She took me in as her own when I was just days old. Apparently when she thought I was ready, she was going to tell me about my birth parents. She had spoken to them when she found them at her doorstep nineteen years ago. She said that everything was going to be okay, and she was going to teach me how to help people who were sick. She was my mom for the next nineteen years, probably more so than anyone else here. No, she didn't give me special treatment, but she asked me about myself, when she just took care of everyone else's basic needs. She would sit with me when I was younger and hold my hand until I fell asleep, and she would sit with me when we would sometimes be able to get ice cream to eat. She would tuck me in when I was young, and whisper goodnight to me when she thought I was asleep when I was older. She was there for all the tears and the anger bursts and the episodes. She helped me through it all, and I owe everything to her.

She said she would give the details of my parents when I turned twenty. That was in another couple months, but I could wait. It was worth it.

We heard footsteps down the aisle. The lights were currently out in the aisle so we couldn't see who it was. We all straightened ourselves just in case it was either of the attending's. They came into view and sat with us.

"I can't stand it anymore. I'm leaving." She said. I recognized the voice, because it was from earlier. She was the one who helped me with taking the humans to the dumpster. I never learned her name. "I just can't do it,"

"Excuse me, who are you?" Alice said. I was too busy staring at the thin red head, trying to come up with a name for her. Carly? Morgan? Olga? I knew I had seen her around the place before, I just didn't know what level she belonged to or anything.

She spoke, "Doesn't matter," she said walking by us, "I'm leaving. Now."

Emmett bellowed a laugh, "'Cause that'll go over well. You can't leave."

She smirked at him, stopping, and turning around so I lost visual of her face. Angelica? Marie? "And how would you know?"

Emmett stood, and smirked back, "I tried before. The whole area is surrounded by electric barbed wire. You physically cannot get out without dying."

Grace? Jenna? Blanched. "You tried?" she was so white I could start to see her full outline of her face. Susie? Jenny?

"Damn right. Third year intern. Almost had a panic attack." He folded his arms and his smirk got deeper, "What's you're excuse?"

She gulped, turned to face me again, looked ahead and then back at me. We stared at each other for a long time before she finally broke it. She stared at Emmett for a while, gulped again, and then back to me, then Alice. We all looked at her with the same expression of pity and confusion of as to why she wanted to leave so bad. Alice then whispered, "If you're done now go back to whatever you have to do."

She turned and left, tears running down her cheeks. He footsteps echoed in the distance and we all watched after her.

She never showed up again. It turns out she was a second year resident, who suffered from depression. She was fifteen years old, and came here on her own free will. Her parents were apart of the take over, and her depression spiraled from them and their corruption. She ran away from her home and ended up here and decided to join. She was one of the smart ones and only did three years of an internship. She didn't mesh well with the other residents being younger than them, and that added to her depression.

She was found dead next to the wire, death by electrocution, time of death at nine-thirteen.

Her name was Jessica.

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	4. Ignorance

**A/N: All characters are Steph's, personalities are mine! Enjoy the chapter, I'm pretty proud of it!**

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 **4: Ignorance**

No one had spoke of Jessica since her death. There was no service to honor her time here, or even her being alive. It's not the way things are done here. We're on a tight schedule, and not to become distracted by death or trouble. There was a quick meeting that lasted about point five seconds—a distracted mention of her death, how it happened, and a hypothesis that was usually never followed through as to why it happened given by Cullen—and we were off to do what we came here to do. Here, there is no delaying the inevitable. People die. Humans die. It's inevitable, and the attendings have taught us and grilled it into our heads since we all became eligible to start our practices at nine years old.

Death happens. There is nothing you or I can do about it. It can be stemmed from old age, disease or infection, assault, or self-harm. But it always happens. Outside, thousands of millions of humans are murdered, and in here, hundreds of humans die.

I had thought a lot about what Jessica asked me the day we took Sumo and his unfortunate partner to the dumpsters: _"Are we murderers?"_

The question rang in my head day and night, whether I was busy with a human or in an Assessment. We've harmed more humans than saved. Does that make us evil? Does it make us like them? Are we helping them? Are we even doing any good? These questions and thousands more swam round and round in my head. Day after day I thought of new questions. I guess only time will tell.

Another human was dying. I was sitting in the same aisle that Alice, Emmett and I usually sit in, when my baby monitor rang to life. I heard feet pounding past me in the dirt, creating the most dust bunnies I've ever seen. I sat for a second and watched as we all put ourselves on the line to save an inevitable death. Isn't this what we we're not supposed to be phased by?

I heard someone scream my name. It was Alice; she was waving me to come to her from behind the wall. I looked at her for a couple seconds before she ran to me, her shoes creating more dust bunnies than were already there. She kneeled in front of me, and looked at me dead in the eyes. Her piercing blue eyes glared at me. Suddenly, she slapped me and grabbed my arms and pulled me up to a standing position, and ran with me like a rag doll.

We came to the main area. Beeping could be heard from every angle of the room. Black, the third attending, shouted for us to shut off our monitors. We all did. Alice shoved her way through the crowd that surrounded the mattress, and I followed. Why is everyone gathered? This happens every day. This isn't special.

Or wasn't. I saw who was on the bed and I knew exactly why Alice slapped me earlier. I quickly found a glove off of a resident, took it, and put it on myself, and began to see if I was going to get selected to handle the case.

Cullen spoke, "McCarty, step up. Now."

Emmett, wherever he was, dogged the crowd and came to the front to stand next to me Alice and I. He stared at who it was and gasped. He, too, was in shock at the case he was presented with. "Why…."

Cullen dropped his knives with a bang on the tray, "It doesn't matter why right now, Mr. McCarty. What matters right now is that we save this life in front of us. Now, what do I do?"

Emmett quickly became serious and a hush came throughout the area. You could hear the slices being made. "Signs and symptoms?" he asked, looking down at the body.

A voice somewhere in the crowd screamed, "Headache, trouble with vision, paralysis to the facial area, and trouble walking!" It was a resident. And she was having a stroke.

Emmett quickly whispered, "Damn it, a stroke." I think it was more to himself than to anyone, because none of us ever believed this would happen. She was invincible to everything, and it should not have ended this way. Because we all knew we were too late, and it would end. Including Cullen. Emmett continued, "Proceed with finding the source of the bleeding and get control of it. I suggest cutting into the skull to find the source."

Cullen quickly took the knife and dove into her head. The sound of bone slicing through the dull knife gave me the shivers. It wasn't supposed to end this way. She wasn't supposed to go like this. Blood soon poured and gushed out of the wound that would no doubt get infected. "McCarty!" Cullen shouted.

Emmett rushed to help Cullen control the bleeding, handing him towel after towel to soak up the blood. "More towels!" he screamed to Seth, the fourth-year-intern. He ran to try and find more towels—but he wouldn't find any because we ran out this morning. "We have to control this bleeding…." He was beginning to hyperventilate.

"McCarty, find the source and give it to me, I'll control the bleeding." How can Cullen be calm at a time like this? This was death. This was our worst nightmare.

Emmett quickly crouched down on the floor to try and find the source of the ruptured artery. There was so much blood I don't know how he did it without touching her, but he did. "There. Left hemisphere, by the temporal lobe."

There were pints and quarts upon quarts of blood getting soaked up by the dirt. There was no way to clean it up either. This place would reek of her for the next couple weeks before we all got used to the smell. I have no idea how she hasn't died from bleeding out. Cullen, worked quickly at trying to control the ruptured artery.

Emmett spoke, "No!" he shouted at Cullen, "Not there," he pointed at the place he was going to cut at. He switched his hands up north about two degrees and said, "there."

Cullen stared at Emett for a long time. I think he was contemplating himself at what to do—no one was prepared for this. Finally, he went with what Emmett said, as it was the rule and he didn't have much choice. Two degrees could make or break any Assessment. Two degrees between life and death. Two degrees between right and wrong.

There was a pop. A scream. Foot steps. A silence. The monitors went dead. The silence could wake the dead. No one was breathing, including myself.

Alice was the first one to speak, "Time of death: twenty fifty-two."

Emmett had killed Dwyer.

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	5. Pressure

**A** **/N: Characters are Steph's, personalities are mine!**

 **Two updates, one day! sorry, I'm just very excited about the story! I also want to apologize, I'm slowly but surely figuring out how to work the publishing so excuse my editing mistakes if any are found!**

 **Things are about to get exciting! Enjoy the chapter! :)**

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 **5: Pressure**

Ihadn't seen or heard from Emmett since Dwyer's death, and that was two weeks ago. I heard from a resident he attempted suicide, and another that he locked himself in the basement. That would be the probably answer if we had a basement. I hadn't had time to search for him, either. Word had spread that a fellow from the outside had somehow gotten in contact with Black, and told her he was coming to help us.

That was enough pressure to last me a lifetime.

I've never met anyone from the outside before, and this was beyond alarming. Why now? Why suddenly, was this…whoever he was…gracing us with his presence? Did he have answers? Information? Information about the humans? The testing? _Them?_ The whole process didn't make sense to me. It was too sudden, too fitting for timing. We have been having one of the worst months on record—especially with Dwyer's death.

No one as prepared for it to happen, not even the other two attendings. They have also been MIA since her death, causing the fellows to step up their game, and believe me, it wasn't easy.

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I walked down the aisle where we usually sat. It was damp—odd for what it usually was. I watched my feet as I made my way to the main room, where all the beds were. Still no sign of Emmett, and I was really beginning to be worried. What if the rumors were true? What if he did something? Hurt himself? Pulled a Jessica?

Or what if he was just gone. Slowly as the weeks went by I was beginning to think that was the case. No one had seen him, no one had heard from him. However I don't even think anyone besides Alice and I cared. They all had their own problems to deal with.

That's how I came to the answer that this place wasn't "in the zone". They weren't looking out for everyone's best interest.

They were selfish.

One of our own, a fellow, someone who was supposed to know how to treat these kinds of things, royally screwed up. Yes, he did. And it was horrible. But shouldn't we be there for one another? For support? One of our own tried to escape and died, being only fifteen years old.

The more I thought about Jessica and I's talk over Sumo, the more she began to make sense. Statistically, we were helping no one. We weren't doing anything so spectacular. We were just helping them accomplish the goal they set out to do.

Destroy mankind and start the world over.

It was quiet in the aisle, so quiet I could hear my shoes clap against the floor. This time, no dust motes, just the crunch of the dirt as I squashed it under my foot. As I walked, I began to kick the dirt, feeling the dirt stick to my scrubs and some fly up my nose and into my mouth, and down my throat. It was comforting—as comforting as dirt could get. It created noise. I wasn't used to silence. Silence was disarming to me, even if there was nothing to be afraid of. Silence made me anxious, on edge, and cold.

I continued down the aisle, kicking my dirt.

There was a shuffle.

I stopped, and stood for quite some time. The aisle was dark—there were no lights. I saw nothing except the black darkness that consumed me, forwards and backwards. It comforted me, the darkness. It's what I knew.

I heard the shuffle again, and with my feet planted, I turned to face behind me. I don't know what looking around the dark was doing for me—maybe calming my nerves that were on edge? I don't know. The shuffling was still there, not seeming to get any closer or farther.

I decided to continue walking.

I proceeded down the aisle, and resumed kicking the dirt, faster than usual. The more noise I created, the more at ease I felt. Noise made me feel at home. It was never quiet here, always a monitor beeping, someone screaming at another, someone dying. Someone trying to hide their sniffling sobs in the aisle as we casually walked by, pretending not to notice the tears pooling on their cheeks.

The more I thought about it, the more depressed I got.

This place was depressing.

The shuffling was getting louder and louder and was closing in on me. Except, I didn't quicken my pace. After all of this death, I figured there was no point.

Closer, closer, closer.

There was a light flashing above my head from behind. Swishing back and forth, doing a dance on the ceiling I never knew existed. The shuffling—which I now recognized as footsteps—was so close I could feel the dirt swash on my legs.

I turned, to face Alice, her black hair and blue yes glinting in the dull light of the flashlight she was holding.

She shined the light right in my face and my eyes, naturally squinted and I backed away from the light, with my hands shielding my face from it. My eyes burned and I knew she hurt them. "Shit, Alice," I said, bending at the waist, rubbing my eyes. "What the hell?"

"I knew it was you kicking the dirt," she informed me.

I stood up still glaring at her through the light that was invading my eyesight. "Congratulations," I deadpanned. "Mind telling me how that entitles you to burn out my corneas?" I said, glaring and crossing me arms over my chest.

"Whatever," she said facing the flashlight up so the light faced the ceiling—which was made out of cement? The light was enough to capture both of our faces. "I need to talk to you."

"About?"

"Emmett."

I sighed a long sigh. "Alice…." I began. I didn't know how to approach the subject about how I thought he was gone for good. How do you tell your closet friend that your other closest friend was gone? Was he even gone? There were so many unanswered questions and it made my head spin. But no one had seen him in close to three weeks since the accident…right?

She stopped me by waving her hand in front of my face. "No, listen," she prompted. She pulled me into the nearest room, closed and locked the door. "I've seen him."

I blanched. "You _what_ —" I began to screech. I saw red. How could she have been in contact with Emmett and not tell me? Who was this girl?

She quickly put her hands over my mouth, dropping the flashlight with a thud on the dirt. The flashlight blinked a couple times and shut off, making the room as dark as night. "Will you _shut up_ ," she began. My eyes adjusted enough to the dark so I could see her look at the ground where the flashlight lay. "Great," she sighed. "That was the one good flashlight."

I licked her dirty palms so she would release my mouth.

She gasped and quickly wiped her palms on her scrub pants. "Ugh, Jesus Christ, would you not?" I saw the disgust on her face and I chuckled.

I looked around and located a bed to my right, where I walked and laid down on it, with on leg hanging off as well as on leg. I realized it was a bunk bed. I looked at Alice, egging her on to continue with Emmett.

She continued, "Anyway, he's fine."

I deadpanned, "Fine? He's been MIA for, what, three weeks now? How can he be fine?"

"I'm getting there," she said. Rolling her eyes, she sat on the ground in next to my arm that was swinging off the bed. "I talked to him, and he said he was fine. He also said he was leaving."

I groaned. "Does he know—"

She interrupted with, "He found a way."

I sat up straight. What do you mean he found a way? I looked at Alice with disbelief. I got up off the bed and began to pace. What does she mean? Is there a trap door? It can be that easy! How long would he be gone? Where was he going? What was he doing? _Would he be back?_

I hadn't realized Alice was standing in front of me until I bumped into her. "What the hell does that mean, Alice?"

She took a deep breath, "I don't know."

"Is he coming back?"

"I don't know."

I put my face in my hands, and shook my head back and forth. How is this happening? I raised my head, blew the hair out of my face, and looked at her.

I looked at Alice for a long time. I could tell some of the light had gone out from her eyes since the last time I saw her—which now that I thought about it, had been over a week—and I racked it up the conversation she had with Emmett. She lost a best friend, too. She was just as clueless as I was about this whole thing, and I shouldn't be blaming her for something she can't control.

I could barely see how sunken her eyes looked—probably from the lack of sleep. I could see the usual raging blue in her eyes had turned to a dull color that had no name. Her lips were not as pink as they used to be.

She wasn't what she used to be.

"How long have you known this?" I asked quietly, looking at the ground.

I looked back at her to see her staring at the dirt on the ground, stepping on imaginary bugs crawling there. She shrugged, "Twelve days,"

I sighed. Twelve days. "How did you want to proceed?"

She looked at me in confusion. "What?"

I smirked at her and her eyebrows rose. "Well I assumed you had some sort of plan on how you wanted to go about this, right?" I chuckled. "I mean, you're you, Alice."

Her smile lit up her face. "I—"

Our monitors started beeping profusely. We checked them and saw it was an emergency. I looked at Alice, who, through the emergency beeps, was still smiling at me. It was beginning to get creepy. She suddenly hugged me tight, and just as quickly let me go. She ran to the door, unlocked it, and stepped outside. She turned back around and smiled at me again. She held on the doorknob, halfway through the door and halfway not. She yelled over the beeping, "Give me three days!"

She ran the opposite way we came, toward the room with the Assessment.

I chuckled, looked at the ceiling, and sighed.

My monitor was beeping profusely, and that's when I remembered where I was and what I was doing. I checked it unnecessarily, smiled to myself, and ran the same was Alice did.

* * *

 **Please review! :) See you next time!**


	6. Change

**A/N: All character's are Steph's, personalities are mine! Thanks to those of you who are keeping up with the story, it means a lot to me. Also _huge_ shoutout to gryffindor-golden girl for beta-ing, I love you, you're my savior. **

**This is a long one, enjoy the ride.**

 **See ya at the bottom!**

* * *

 **6: Change**

We had a week until he showed up. He was from the state, just north from where we were in Montana. Almost in Canada. He was coming an about a week, and we had to begin making _preparations._

Whatever that meant.

Cullen and Black became Nazi's about what we had to do. Apparently, the man who was coming was going to replace Dwyer and become the new attending. He was going to replace Dwyer in all means possible—take care of us, make the rules, and make changes around this place. To Alice and I, it seemed they both were putting all they had into this guy.

We first got the details about him when Cullen called for us all to meet in the Common, where the Assessments take place. He stood atop an empty mattress—which didn't give him much height or dignity from his original standpoint—with Black. Both their faces were white, stoic. Their scrubs were covered with dirt from the day, and their faces looked weary.

I had never taken this much time to look at each of them. Though they were both relatively young—around twenty-nine—they looked like they haven't had a good nights sleep since the beginning. Their eyes were sunken in like Alice's used to be, with the same dark circles some of the residents complained about having. Their hair was starting to grey from the original blonde and black it was.

It was kind of…pitiful. I could tell both of them looked like they had lost hope in everything we were trying to do. It looked that they wanted to stop everything and just accept what happened.

Everyone was chatting away like we were meeting for a group chat. Both attendings were chatting quietly—probably trying to figure out what to say to us. I looked around at the people who surrounded me. As per usual, they were all mixed in their circles—the residents, the interns, and the fellows. I stood alone as I waited for Alice, looking at all the people who filled the room.

I thought about how little I knew about all of these people. How the only times I've said any words to anyone besides Alice and Emmett was during an Assessment. They all had their own lives, lives that I knew nothing about. Not that I wanted to know about the unnecessary details of their lives, per se, but it was awkward. I've lived with these people my entire life and not once had I had any conversation with one of them.

It was all about the circles.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped, too engrossed in my own speculations on other peoples lives that I hadn't even heard Alice walk up next to me. "Gah!" I exclaimed, as I jumped a couple feet off the ground.

With that, Alice laughed. And laughed. And laughed. She was bent over at the waist, clutching her stomach like it was the funniest things she's ever seen. Her laugh was anything but graceful, as she guffawed at my scare.

I chuckled along with her, crossing my arms over my chest. "Okay, ha ha. You made a funny, quit laughing."

The statement only made her laugh harder. She clutched her knees and tried to get out, "No...you… should've seen your face," she stopped to stand up and wipe a tear that escaped from the corner of her eye. "Oh God, I needed that," she finished.

"Well, I'm glad I could help," I said, laughing a bit to myself. I was suddenly mad that I stopped her from laughing. Laughs don't happen here, and it's kind of weird when they do. It never seems right because of the circumstances. I turned to face Alice, "How are you holding up?"

It had been three days since we last talked. Technically, she was supposed to have concocted some type of plan for us, and the whole Emmett thing, but she had been busy and also suffered from lack of any ideas.

"I don't know," she sighed, looking up at the attendings, "this whole thing just pisses me off."

I looked up at the attendings with her. "Agreed,"

She sighed again, a more angrier sigh than tired, "It's just… I'm usually good at this stuff, you know? I'm always the one getting us out of shit and now I have nothing."

I nodded and looked at her. She was still staring at the attendings as they continued to converse. Some of the blue in her eyes came back, but they were still dull. "Hey," I said, tapping her cheek, "it's going to be okay." I hoped.

Cullen then called us to attention by clearing his throat. Black stood next to him looking so seriously at the wall behind us I thought he would drill a hole in it. "You all know about the devastating departure we've had recently," he began. He wasn't looking at any of us, but instead behind us, at the bed where Dwyer died. "It's been tragic, yes. But we have to move on. We don't have time."

Like I said, selfish.

Black then stepped forward. He looked at his chart and back to us. He put the chart behind his back and addressed us all, "We have a new attending who will be joining us—permanently. He's from just north of where we are and will be here in a week." He stood taller as he continued, "He's the best chance we have. You are to do what he tells you, when he tells you, whatever he tells you."

"Oh, shit," Alice whispered to me. I saw her head turn towards my face in the corner of my eye.

"Yep," I responded back, "oh, shit,"

We looked at each other for a short minute, trying to wrap our heads around the whole thing. Around the whole someone is going to come in, and turn this place upside down. I didn't know whether to be scared or excited.

Black continued, "So, for those thinking whatever bullshit thoughts you are, stop. I expect nothing but cooperation from you all. He will be bringing a couple of fellows with him as well, seeing as one of ours couldn't handle himself."

I saw red. I'm pretty sure Alice did as well from the way her small frame was shaking with rage. He had no right to assume, no one did, not even Alice and I. Not one person understood; not the pressure or anything that comes with being a fellow.

My eyes turned to narrow slits and I barely listened to Black and Cullen finish their speech.

Alice's face mimicked mine, I saw from the corner of my eye.

"…That's all." Cullen ended. "Back to work, all of you."

* * *

Alice and I were sitting in our usual aisle where we always sat with Emmett. We were raging about what Black and Cullen were saying about Emmett—I honestly don't think Alice or I could see passed it.

Alice stood up from her sitting position and started pacing. Back and forth, back and forth she walked, her feet skidding on the ground, stirring up dirt in the air. She stopped, looked at the ceiling and groaned, "This is so fucked up," she put her hands to her hair and began to pull, mimicking pulling her hair out.

I got up and rushed her, seeing her anger take over her. That was never good. "Hey," I said. Seeing as she didn't listen—I doubt she could even hear me—she kept pacing, her speed increasing. "Hey," I said louder. I stood in front of her, putting my hands on her shoulders. She looked up at me, and I could see her walls begin to crumble. The tears were pooling over in her eyes, threatening to break and let the emotions she's been holding escape.

The thing with this place is that we try as hard as we can to save humans. We push long hours, put everything we have in it. But we aren't allowed to feel. We're not allowed to sit and have a good cry, or laugh, or joke, or comfort others.

It was pitiful.

"Hey," I said, wiping her eyes as she silently cried, "it's going to be okay."

She sniffled, and glared at me saying, "What if it's not?"

I let go of her shoulders, crossing my arms across my chest. This wasn't Alice. This wasn't Alice at all. I glared back at her, "You stop it. You know damn well that we're going to figure this out and somehow Emmett will come back."

She through her hands up in the air, "And what if he doesn't, Bella? What then?"

I sighed, "I don't know, okay? Is that what you want?"

"I want the truth," she said. I looked at her, at a loss for words. We stared at each other for some time before she sighed and ended, "Look, I'm sorry I yelled. It's all this stress. I guess this new attending is getting to me."

I chuckled, "Yeah, well, life goes on."

She crossed her arms across her chest, and stood tall looking behind me. At what, I don't know. All I know is that once she stood tall I knew she was semi-back to normal. I don't think she would return to being normal until Emmett came back.

* * *

He was scheduled to come today, him and his minions. Alice and I decided we didn't like him solely because of what his fellows would be doing.

Childish, yes, but we all never really grew up here.

Cullen and Black have been on edge all day, and it's been quite comical. Alice and I would catch them checking the time on their watches, or shuffling back and forth during an Assessment, and each time we would snicker.

Served them right.

It was time, time for the inevitable to happen. The replacements. Change—God, I hated change.

I was standing at the makeshift desk we had in the Common, looking over a chart with Alice as we discussed the resident's takedowns. They were wrong, but what else is new? The residents are sloppy and shouldn't be here, God only knows why. Maybe this new attending will kick hem to the curb.

I heard them talking before I saw them. I looked towards the doorway where they would enter. The man's voice, of what I could hear of it, was deep—really deep next to Cullen's. The footsteps got closer, and I had zoned out on Alice who was still reading the chart and talking to me. My head was fixed solely on the door watching. Waiting.

"Are you listening—holy crap," Alice whispered.

The man had entered the room. Alice and I both stopped, as did the rest of the Common. Cullen looked up at us all, busy staring at him and the man next to him, and stood taller and said, "Nothing to see here, back to work, all of you."

No one seemed to hear him as the man spoke, "Well, I think there is _something_ to see here," he said.

 _Oh my God,_ his voice. It was rich, thick, like molasses. It engulfed me, making me not only hear the words, but feel them. Its like I could feel the vibrations all the way across the room. His voice matched his looks—breathtaking. His copper hair, simultaneously short and long. His eyes such a vibrant green they seemed to glow. The five-o-clock shadow creating a roughness to him that was all man; he stood tall, probably about six-three, maybe six-four if extended to full height. His black scrub pants hung low, his white t-shirt barely covering the drawstring. I couldn't gauge his age, his face seemed timeless. He could be anywhere from twenty-three to thirty-seven.

No matter how old he was he was all man.

The man was flanked by two blondes—one boy and one girl. The boy was tall, but not as tall as the man. His shaggy, dirty blonde hair was flung in all directions, almost like he had a habit of running his hand through his hair. His face, while attractive, was stoic and cold, void of any emotion it seemed. His piercing blue eyes were shining, like pools of sea. He stood tall, with his hands behind his back.

The girl, however, was insane. She was leggy, standing shorter to her blonde partner, but almost as tall. Her hair, long, shiny, and blonde, was braided haphazardly, but I could tell it hung to at least her waist. Her blue eyes were shiny and dark, but held a cold façade of indifference as well. She stood, with her hands crossed over her chest, as she scanned the room with a smirk on her pink lips.

Both of their black scrubs fit to perfection, while ours were either too big or too small.

My eyes, I could tell, grew bigger than before. I gasped and dropped my pen I was writing with.

Once the pen dropped, significantly after the man spoke, everyone looked at me. I looked back at everyone, and quickly dropped to gather myself and the pen. I stood up to find everyone's attention was back to the three people.

The man spoke again, "Might as well make introductions now," he said. He moved to the center of the room, his blonde babes following him, but they stood back further against the wall as Cullen started the introduction.

"This is Edward Masen, your newest head attending—"

He interrupted him suddenly, "I do not care to get to know you all, so do not even try to. I'm not impressed easily, so don't try that either. I'm here, whether you all like it or not. I don't know how things were handled before, and honestly, I don't care."

He began to walk around the room, catching the eyes of every person filling it. "You do you job and you do it well, or die trying." His eyes landed on Alice, whom he skipped just as fast as he had the others.

Next, was me.

His eyes caught mine and he walked towards me. He stood close to me, so close I had to lean back so I wouldn't crash into him. He smirked at me, and looked me up and down, assessing. He chuckled, and leaned back. I stood glaring at him.

I looked over at his blonde babes and noticed they, too, were smirking but not at me, just in general. They were leaning against the wall, ankles crossed, arms across their chests. _They have to be related._

He walked backed towards Cullen, who I could tell was proud at the job he and Black did.

He spoke, "I couldn't have said it better myself, Mr. Masen."

With that they walked out of the room.

Alice and I looked at each other, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was.

 _We're all fucked_.

* * *

 **Oh, Edward, such a sweetheart. Thanks for reading!**

 **Please review!**


	7. Impressions

**A/N: All characters are Steph's, personalities are mine! Again, thanks to you guys are keeping up with the story. And if you're just joining us, welcome!**

 **Also, big love to gryffindor-golden girl, she's a superstar as well as my beta. You all should check out her story, A Hero's Burden - its magical.**

 **Onward with the story! Hope you all like it, see you at the bottom. ;)**

* * *

 **7: Impressions**

We sat in our normal aisle we usually did. We had been spending a lot of time here, more than normal it seemed. I believed it was because Alice and I could easily vision Emmett sitting next to us, laughing and cracking sarcastic comments. I could feel is laughter and his voice radiating through the aisles.

We would sometimes sit in the aisle and just sit. There would be no conversation, because there would be no need for it. Sometimes I would walk down it, on my way to the Common, and see Alice sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, with her head in between them. I would stop, and just look at her, taking in the sight.

Alice wasn't the same.

Slowly, very slowly, she began to sink into a shell that was a hollow copy of who she used to be. She was Alice, but she wasn't at the same time. The light that had begun to come back in her eyes was out again and remained out since Masen arrived. I think she truly believed Emmett wasn't coming back. I think the two fellows, who were no more pleasant than Masen himself, signified the nail in the coffin for her.

I didn't know what kind of affect it had on me, however. I think I settled myself into such a routine—get up, rounds, chart, busy work, emergency Assessment, sit in the aisle, and go to bed—that I sort of became numb to the whole experience. People would talk, but I wouldn't hear them. I would talk, but I couldn't understand what I was saying. I went through the motions, motions that I shouldn't be just going through, but I seemed to not care anymore.

I don't know who was worse: Alice or me.

I guess one could dignify that we were becoming the same person—a hollow shell of who we once were. Someone who became everything this place detested. Someone who doesn't belong here.

But are you even a person when you become this? Are you even someone that's alive? Or do you just exist? Were Alice and I just coexisting somewhere we didn't belong?

It's now that I realize Emmett was the life in our lives. He was the one who kept the positivity going; the laughs and the smiles all belonged to him. Our humanity belonged to him; who we used to be belonged to him. He was our rock, someone we could go to when things were tough—which was all the time. He was the brother we both never had. He was the one person who knew things about Alice and I that we didn't know about each other.

And he needs to come back.

* * *

I still haven't had the _pleasure_ of having a one-on-one with Masen yet. I saw him work from afar at the makeshift desk. I would stand there, logging in numbers and symptoms, trying to cover up the resident who made mistakes before me, and every so often I would peek up at him as he went through an Assessment.

Some weeks have gone by since he and the blonde babes arrived here, and in those weeks I noticed the little things one would notice if they had created a friendship with him—how he ran his right hand through his hair whenever he was frustrated or tired, which was weird considering he was left handed. Or how when he was slightly pissed of at someone, you knew because he had an angry smile on his face, which sort of resembled a tight line across his mouth with a slight curve. How after whenever he was done with an Assessment he would do a deep sigh at the desk. How he would tap his foot whenever listening to someone talk to him, no matter what ranking they were.

How, when he was happy, his smile lit up the common. His teeth were so white I wondered where the hell this guy came from. How I wondered how he could be such an ass to everyone around him, and still look as beautiful as he did.

The world wasn't a fair place. Bad things happen to good people, and the world goes on.

* * *

I was standing at the desk in the middle of the Common, charting number and symptoms as usual. I hadn't seen Alice in two days, and I hoped she was okay. I hadn't seen her on an Assessment during that time either. I chalked—and hoped—it up that I was just never lucky in being where she was at the right time.

Lost in my thoughts and inner rants, I didn't hear someone walk up next to me, until I turned to walk to put the chart back and ran smack into the person.

"Sor—" I began. I stopped when I looked up and saw that the person I ran into was Masen.

He stood almost a two heads taller than I did. I slowly raised my eyes to meet his vivid emerald orbs staring down at me. He was wearing his signature smirk, and was leaning with one arm in the desk and his ankles crossed. His black scrubs fitting to perfection as usual, and not a hair out of place. His five-o-clock shadow was leering at me—mocking me, begging to be touched.

We continued to look at each other, with my eyes wide as saucers, and his slightly narrowed—not menacing, but more like a playful way. I kept as stiff as a board as I stared at him, with the chart clutched to my chest.

He spoke, his smirk growing and his eyes zeroing in on the chart, "Patient four-fifteen," he said, eyes climbing back up to meet mine.

I, still silent and completely embarrassing myself by continuing to stare, nodded sharply once.

"Hmmm," he hummed, clasping his other hand onto the arm resting on the table. "done?" he finished, still looking at me.

Again, I nodded once, still stiff as a board like someone rammed a pipe up my spine.

He held out his hand, and I stared at it. Looking at the crisp lines where the fingers normally bend. The more I stared, the more I wanted to touch it.

"Swan," he barked, the playfulness gone from his eyes, his eyes narrowing like they did when he was irritated. My eyes snapped up to meet his, "the chart."

I, quickly and fumbling, handed him the chart. I continued to stand there, looking at the chart that he was touching. It was pathetic.

"Looks like we're dealing with a clot," he mused, more to himself than me, I'm sure. He looked up at me, slamming the chart shut and throwing it on the desk, making it slide back next to me, stopping perfectly in my reach. I stared at the chart.

"Do you speak?" he asked me, the playfulness back in his voice. My head, again, snapped up to meet his orbs. His smirk was back, and I knew he was beginning to play with me. "Well, Swan?"

I gave him a confused look, silently asking him how he knew my name.

Answering my unasked question, he raised his eyes to look behind me staring at something behind me. "I know everyone here, Swan," he began, "you're not special."

I nodded, wishing this would end, and unconsciously wishing it wouldn't. My eyes had lowered to the ground, where I looked at his black converse. Laces still pristine. _How does he do this?_

My head slowly made its way back to looking at his face. I saw he was back to staring at me, all trace of smile gone, and the smirk back in place. "Are you usually this mute?" He asked me, his eyes narrowing again, looking playful. He stood up straight, pushing himself off the desk and untangling his ankles. He leaned close to me, his face inches away from mine. "Does my presence make you nervous?"

I just continued to stare.

He chuckled, and stood up, "Learn to find your voice, Swan. Silence isn't your forte. It's irritating."

He walked through me, making me turn sideways to let him to let him by.

It was funny, the whole thing. He thought I was scared of him, when I couldn't decide if I was scared or amazed by him.

The world isn't a fair place.

I stared after the man, who I didn't know irritated me to no end or made me want to cripple at knees. I continued to stare after him, still keeping a watch on my surroundings. I was tired of everyone sneaking up on me.

So, naturally, I heard Alice's light footsteps as she walked closer towards me. She smiled, though the smile didn't reach her eyes. She leaned next to me on the desk, her eyes in the same direction as mine, towards the door. "Masen?" she said.

I sighed, "Yeah," and joined her position against the desk, leaning with her. I laid my head on her shoulder and hummed to myself.

She barked out a sarcastic laugh. She laid her head on mine, making a pile of heads on her shoulder. "How'd that go?"

I pulled my head up, opened the chart and began going over my work, hoping all was correct when Masen got ahold of it. "Ha, no comment,"

"The bad?" she said, looking at me.

I looked over at her, a deadpan look on my face. "You don't want to know." I flipped the chart closed, making a snap sound ring out in the Common. "Fuck," I whispered, leaning my elbows on the desk and covering my face with my hands.

"What?"

"Masen."

"What about him?"

I ran both hands through my hair, and took a deep breath. Clasping my hands together I lowered them onto the desk and looked at her. She was looking at me expectantly. "He's…he's infuriating. I can't stand the man."

"Okay," she mused. "And?"

"I cant get him out of my head." I confessed. "Whenever I'm near him, I find myself looking at him like a love-struck pubescent teenager." I looked towards the ceiling and laughed. "But when he opens his mouth…oh, God, I want to strangle him with my bare hands."

"Eh," she said, smiling at me. "Men," she finished.

I looked at her, wondering how she thought that could help me out in any way.

"Look," she stated, "don't worry about it, okay? Your hormones are probably all out of wack, since, honestly, there isn't a good looking guy in this place."

I chuckled at her response.

She finished, "Just…don't worry about it, okay? So you like—"

I interrupted her, "I do no—"

"Shut up." she fired back. "It's not like we get any action here, so just embrace it. He might not be Prince Charming, but knowing him he probably has an act up; some walls. He's head of this whole bad idea now, and he has to make a badass impression." she shrugged, waving my fears off like they were nothing.

"Alice," I sighed.

"Bella, don't worry until you have to."

I stared at her for a minute and whispered, "You should take your own advice, Alice."

Her head whipped towards mine, and we stared at each other for a while, both of us contemplating what I meant when I said that. I didn't mean to say it, it just spilled out. I was a selfish person, and wanted my friend back. I wanted the light to shine in her eyes.

"Alice…" I started

I was too late, for she had already walked away, without looking back.

* * *

I hadn't seen Alice since then. I sat in the aisle wondering what even provoked me to say that in the first place. I wasn't a cruel person. I wasn't mean; I could barely turn off the life support machine without assistance. Maybe Emmett being gone was making me more agitated than I thought.

I heard someone sit next to me. But I knew it wasn't Alice. The person sitting down, was louder than she was. I sighed.

"What's up with you?" the girl—no, woman's—voiced asked.

I looked to my right to see one of the blonde babes sitting next to me. Her hair, as usual, was fishtailed to perfection. She even had a braided hair headband or whatever it was. Her eyelashes looked like they were coated in a ton of mascara, but I knew they were just thick and long. Her lips, flawless and pink, were biting into a bright red apple.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself about," I replied, looking away from her towards the dirt on the ground.

I heard her bite into her apple again. "Bella, right?"

I nodded, refusing to look at her.

"Rose," she said, introducing herself. "I heard about you,"

I barked out a loud laugh, "Yeah," I said bitterly. "I bet you did."

She chuckled quietly, and I don't know why, but it really pissed me off. She seemed to be mocking me. My face slowly turned to face her, a glare set in my eyes. I hoped it was as menacing as I thought it was. Her blue eyes looked back into mine fearless. She seemed to not be fazed by my menacing look, or just by me in general. Her eyes held humor, and her lips shifted into the signature smirk all three of them seemed to wear. _They should trademark it._

"We didn't do anything wrong," she began. "We were asked to come here, you know."

I looked at her saying nothing, but silently hoping she would continue. We were informed that they reached out to us.

The silence was constraining me and I quickly spoke, "That's not what we were told."

"Well," she sighed, throwing her apple core at the opposite wall. We both watching it splatter on the wall, leaving the juice markings all over it. "You were informed wrong."

At that point, three mice came out from the wall. They went over to the apple core, sniffed it, and ran away.

"Well then what did happen?" I asked my voice lighter.

"We were told you all needed help—that this place was failing," she began, "boy were they right." She laughed to herself. "They came in about two weeks before we arrived here, saying how you all were losing more humans than saving. How you all were dropping like flies. Basically just bragged about how much you were failing."

I continued to stare, egging her on.

"So," she continued, "Edward packed us up, and shipped us here. He originally wasn't going to bring us, but then decided we were the best ones for the job—at handling you."

"We?"

"Oh," she said when she realized I didn't know who she was referring to, "Jasper, the other blonde one."

I nodded in understanding.

"Anyway," she mused, "he was in bad shape. Said he had to tell us before going to his final destination. I guess he needed to make sure you all were okay before getting there."

My head snapped up quickly.

 _He._

"Uhm…Rose?" I asked, afraid to. I was terrified of knowing the answer.

"Yeah?" she said looking at me. Her blue eyes boring deep into my brown ones.

"Did the man have a name?"

"Oh," she said. She then laughed to herself, as if she couldn't believe how she could forget such vital information. "Yeah, he did."

I cleared my throat, the bile quickly rising. "What was it?" I was terrified. I was horrified at the possibilities. I felt like I was going to faint. The room was spinning, my eyesight closing in on me.

"Emmett."

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 **Oh, Emmett what did you do?**

 **Thank for reading, see you all next time!**

 **Reviews are like your own person doctor Edward ;)**


	8. Truth

**A/N: All character are Steph's, personalities are mine.**

 **As always big thanks to my beta, you rock my socks. Also thanks to for believing in me you superstar.**

 **So, here we go. All questions should be answered in this chapter, how you like it, i know i do!**

 **See you at the bottom(:**

* * *

 **8: Truth**

It was cold. I was cold, but I was sweating. I could tell the room was dark, that it was nighttime, without even opening my eyes. I remained laying on…whatever I was laying on, listening to the voices whispering about me.

"Sorry," the woman said. "I didn't know she would react like this,"

"Well there's nothing we can do except wait," a man said. Even in my dream-like state I could tell the man was attractive. "What happened?"

The woman explained, "I found her sitting in the hallway. I'd seen her around and decided _why not_. I sat with her and got the impression she didn't like me. I think it had something to do with the kid who left…or died…or whatever happened to him. I told her it wasn't our fault, since this place wanted us to come in the first place. I explained how the kid came to us, basically begging us—well, to you—to come help them. She listened to me, not really saying anything at first." She mused.

There was a tender silence, like they were digesting what she was saying. Or maybe he was nodding. I didn't know; my eyes were closed.

She resumed, "Then I said the kid was a man, and she kinda froze. Deer caught in headlights and shit."

"Huh," another man said. This voice was different. It was deep, but wasn't as deep as the first man. "Continue,"

"Well, then I told her who the kid was and she freaked. She started seizing and trembling and she fainted. I didn't know what to do or who to get, so I calmly laid her down—but then shit went crazy. She started flailing all around—hands in the air, legs swaying. I think she even started screaming something but it was a bunch of words I didn't understand."

Another silence.

Continuing, the woman cleared her throat, and I could tell there were tears in her eyes as she spoke. "She was flailing so much—I tried to get control, but she ended up slamming her head on the wall. It started leaking so much blood. I used my hand to cover up the wound and paged Carlisle and Jasper."

The first man hummed in response. It was killing me to not wake up and demand answers from these people. But I knew I had to keep silent so I could here the rest of the conversation. And I didn't want to attention on me.

"You said the kid set her off?" the second man said.

There was yet another silence for a second, and I assumed the woman nodded in response. I heard sniffling, which confirmed my suspicion of her crying.

"Well, we'll need to talk to Carlisle, but I think the kid was important to—"

The second man interrupted the first, saying, "Yeah, I was talking to the other fellow, Alice I think her name is, and she was explaining how the kid was their best friend. I guess something happened, something dark, and he left. They both apparently have no idea where he went."

What the second man said surprised me. He uttered out, "Let's keep it that way."

My breathing started to increase as they talked about Emmett. I didn't know how much longer I could here about Emmett and _not_ say anything. It hurt just listening to them. Why would they need to keep it a secret from me? From Alice? Was he in danger? Was he on a suicide mission? What was he _doing_?

Thankfully, there was a knock on the door, ending the conversation. The first man spoke a quick, "Not a word of this to anyone, you two. Not even the girl."

I drifted back to sleep.

* * *

"You're awake," murmured a voice next to my ear.

I knew the voice, that dark, honey-rich voice that haunted me. I moaned, from denial that he was there or from pain I wasn't quite sure. I turned my head from side to side, seemingly in denial of everything that just happened. I felt tightness on my head, like my skin was stretching as I shook my head on the mattress.

With my eyes remaining closed, I turned my head and lifted up my arm to feel what was constricting me.

It was rough, like sandpaper. I pressed down on the sandpaper and a sharp pain singed through my body. "Ahh!" I exclaimed, hissing at the pain.

I felt another hand grasp my wrist gently. The fingers were soft, but also had a rough feel to them. They were warm, and that's when I noticed how cold I was. I started to shiver lightly.

"Shh," the voice calmed. The grasp on my wrist went away, and I immediately missed the warmth. The fingers, instead of leaving me completely, moved to the top of my head and began to brush my hair back from my face, soothing me. It was then that I noticed I was sweating profusely.

I gulped, noticing the burning sensation in my throat. My eyes opened slowly, and I blinked rapidly, for my vision was blurry. My vision re-centered, and I saw him. His eyebrows drawn in concern, his eyes, while guarded, showed complete and utter worry, something I never knew he was capable of feeling. His mouth was in a frown, but not a disapproving frown. I couldn't place what the frown represented.

"How're you feeling?" Masen asked, his fingers still running through my disgusting and greasy hair.

"My…throat burns," I croaked. I began to cough haphazardly, curling up into a ball as every tremor of a cough shook my body.

I hadn't noticed Masen left until he sat back down with the thud on the metal stool. The stool, embracing his weight, scraped on the floor—which was made of linoleum, nothing I had ever seen before. The scraping was so loud, making my headache pound and my ears ring. I cringed, whimpering at the noise.

"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, taking into consideration my headache. "Here, drink this." He handed me a tall glass of water with ice. He helped me sit up, leaning me against the cold wall behind me. "You gave us a scare," he continued.

I chugged my water quickly, drinking it in one gulp. It felt so good on my throat. I looked at him silently, asking what happened.

"Rose brought you to the Common with your head gushing with blood. Said you fainted." He explained. "Why did you faint?"

I looked down remembering the events that spiraled…how long was I out?

I ignored his question. "How long?" I whispered, terrified to hear the answer.

"Three days,"

My eyes got large as I looked at him. I was out for three days. _Three days._ Who did all my work for me? Oh, God, he was here to kill me. Well, either that or hurt me severely.

"Oh my God," I gasped. I quickly jumped up from the cot. I swayed back and forth, and my headache was pounding like no other. I thought my brain was going to explode out of my skull. "I'm so sorry, I'll get back to work right away. I'll work triple the amount I have been…" I was more or less talking to myself.

"Bella—"

"I left you minus down a man," I moaned. I was looking at the ground in complete shame. How selfish I was, letting my problems get the best of me. "I'll work triple, I won't sleep until everything is done. I'm so sorry—"

"Bell—"

"I'm so sorry, Dr. Masen," I repeated, my head down in fear and obedience.

" _Swan,"_ he roared. It took the affect he desired, and I shut up instantly. I was shaking so hard, he thought I was shivering, but in the end I was just terrified of the man in front of me. "Will you shut up?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips. I blinked at him. That was a tone I had never heard before, a light playfulness that took the bite out of his words. _Maybe I shouldn't be afraid,_ I mused.

Now maybe it was the dizziness, or the fact that I was not yet in control of my mental faculties, but the question just slipped out.

"What do you know about Emmett?" I asked.

He sighed, looking anywhere but at me, clearly debating on whether or not to let me in on the secret.

He began, "He came in a couple of weeks ago, asking us to come help you all. Said the place was going down under quickly, and didn't want to see you guys go down with it. You were too important to him."

"Yeah," I said. "I understand that part. But why did her go there? What is he doing—where is he going?"

"Bella…" Masen sighed, clasping his hands together and looking at the floor.

"No, Masen," I said, pushing a finger to his chest. A part of me was stunned by my own boldness as I had been terrified of the man moments ago, but I pressed on. "I want answers. Now."

He looked at me for a long while, contemplating if he could really tell me everything. He looked so torn—torn between what I have no idea. Time passed, and the more it passed the more anxious I got. His eyes gradually got more and more sad, and I assumed it was due to the side of him that wanted to tell me everything, because it was winning.

"Fine," he said, not breaking the intense eye contact with me. "Get comfortable,"

I sat back, and relaxed, believing I was ready to here what I've wanted to know since the beginning.

"About a decade before you were born,"—currently avoiding how he knew how old I was—"the world was going through one of it most violent stages ever recorded in history. Wars, gang violence, and serial killings were happening so much daily, it became normal. As years went by, more and more people started acting violent to _end_ the violence, banding together to create gangs that would try and clear out the streets. However, as I'm sure you're just rich with common sense, fighting violence with violence is never the answer. So, after being around for a couple months, the government, or someone out of random, would exterminate them."

My eyes grew larger. Who knew there would be more violence than there is today?

He continued, looking down at his feet. "But one group was still successful. Three brothers—Aro, Marcus, and Caius—all banned together after their mother was supposedly murdered right in front of them. Slowly but surely, over the course of a couple years, gangs, wanted killers and rapists, suddenly started going missing. No one knew why it was happening—or how—but they believed something of a greater power was helping stop the violence.

"So it continued on: people going missing and ending up dead, violence and crimes rate rapidly depleting, and the war was coming to a close after twenty-five years."

Listening to him speak I couldn't comprehend how we got to where we are today. It sounded like these three men were doing the world good—ending violence and crimes. I wanted to ask questions, a million of them brewing in my mind, but I knew I had to keep quiet, because I may never get this chance again. Also because he wasn't done. Minor detail.

"The three brothers soon became public. People chanted their names in the streets, posted were hung around the city everywhere. You couldn't go anywhere without seeing at least one of the brothers everywhere you turned." He barked out a sarcastic laugh. "People thought they were god-like, they worshiped them. They could do no wrong."

He took a deep breath seeming prepare to drop the big bomb on all of the wonderful things he was telling me. "It wasn't until they took out the government, did people finally notice how horrific they were."

I gasped in shock. _Here we go._

"News had spread that they had taken out our government—both houses, the president, everyone—gone. Soon, they climbed their way up, and became our new government. They made new laws and began to create a new mindset in our world.

"A couple years before you were born, they hit the breaking point. They felt the world had been destroyed by the violence and all the people who had helped create it. It was shameful and horrible, and they wanted to end it all and start fresh—fresh people, fresh laws, everything.

"So," he sighed. It looked like he was having a hard time explaining this to me. I wanted to be selfless and tell him it was okay to stop, but we both knew it wasn't. I was too far deep, and I needed answers. "they decided to do just that—start fresh. Soon masses of our population started to die. It wasn't until a couple months into the mass extinction was it made public that the brothers had started killing our humanity. They burned down cities, shot people in the streets, and bombed countries. They weren't stopping until the generations of human were gone—depleted, so they could indeed start a whole new world."

I looked at him completely in shock. I don't know how I formed my next words, but somehow I managed it, "So that's how we were started." It wasn't a question, but a statement. It all made sense now.

He nodded, "Yes. Soon, facilities like yours and mine started popping up all around the world. But the brothers always found them, and bombed those as well. We began to get smart, and built them underground so there would be no trace. We started taking people who were injured and on the brink of death, and fighting for them to stay alive. We help them in everyway we could."

"Which is why you're here," I noted.

"Correct," he answered. "When Emmett came to us, he said you were failing miserably. You were doing more harm than good, and basically making the human extinction go faster than it should. I came as soon as I could, Bella, and I fully intent to turn this place around."

I looked into his green eyes, sparkling with confidence as he promised me something I have been working for as long as I could remember. I smiled at him, silently promising to help him achieve his goal. I believed he could. I've seen him in action—the no bullshit rule this man had in place was doing wonders. Our numbers of survival were up and kept climbing rapidly.

I took his hand in mine, and began to play with his fingers, staring at the intricate details: the grasp lines, the veins visible on his palm and backside, the small hairs growing out of his knuckles. I looked up him, keeping my hand firmly grasping his, a small smile gracing my face. "You still haven't told me about Emmett," I said quietly, barely whispering it.

He leaned closer, kneeling by my side. He turned our hands so his thumb was rubbing the backside of my hand in small strokes. "You don't want to know,"

I looked at him, "Tell me, Edward," it was the first time I said his name. It sounded wonderful on my lips.

Edward must have agreed because he had the signature, panty-dropping smirk on his face.

Suddenly, he became serious and said, "I'm sorry, Bella,"

I looked at him in confusion, my silence conveying my question: _What do you mean?_

"Emmett has gone to kill Aro,"

So that's it. A suicide mission.

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 ** _Jeeeez_ Emmett, making everything hard for everyone. The plot thickens! Hope all questions were answered and everything makes more sense. Also shoutout to my favorite couple, you go. **

**Please review, see you all next time!**


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